


Sound and Depth

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Barebacking, Bottom John, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Pining John, Proper Prep, Self-Love, Sounding, Surprise Sex, Top Sherlock, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John tries something new by himself only for it to end with company. It was quite a sound experience to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound and Depth

It had happened three weeks ago.

They had been at each other more often than not lately, and to make matters worse John had been angry when they finally reached home. 

John knew it was the close proximity, their temperaments, lack of cases… well many things that had been causing the terrible rows they had experienced in the previous weeks. If John had to be honest with himself, the lack of sex, self-pleasuring or otherwise, was sending him to the edge of his tether too and it did not help the situation they had found themselves in earlier. 

Finally, after being cloistered with Sherlock for six hours in a tiny cupboard, that had been shuttered with a nail gun no less, Lestrade had caught the man that had captured them. Fate would have it though, that it had taken the D.I. and his team time to figure out which safe house John and Sherlock were trapped in. This only reiterated, in John’s mind, the fact that they needed to keep, at the very least, Lestrade in the know to their movements on cases like this. One of them would die one day due to lack of communication, John just knew it. Sherlock had scoffed at him, the infuriating prick.

Not saying a word to Sherlock once they had crossed the threshold at Baker Street, he had simply ignored him. It was far better then igniting the powder keg that was just waiting in his chest. He was done losing his temper any further that evening. So John acted as if Sherlock did not exist, went straight up to his rooms and stripped. When he got into the punishingly hot water in his shower, it took what seemed like a lifetime for the angry tension John was holding to wash away. Beaten and scrubbed into submission, his body became pliant just as the mental replay of Sherlock’s body pressed against his began looping in his drowsy mind. 

This was happening all too often for John. His mind wandering into uncharted territory where Sherlock was concerned. Of course it was normal to fantasise, and his friend was fairly gorgeous and quite brilliant, but damn if he’d go fucking insane soon if he couldn’t figure out how to deal with his feelings. Honestly, John thought he might be close to just going to Sherlock’s room and owning the bastard. 

It wasn’t right though. He didn’t even know how Sherlock felt about him. For all he knew Sherlock was quite content with their arrangement and John’s laying claim would break everything. It wasn’t time yet, maybe soon, when he really couldn’t stand it anymore. So, for now, John leaned against his shower wall and let the water sluice over him as he thought of his indomitable flatmate. You’re his friend, his only friend John, he reminded himself as he drew up the memory anyway.

Friend with a faultless fucking cupid bow mouth.

Oh, God the things he could imagine Sherlock doing with it… perfect. The moisture and heat just on the otherside of those beautiful fucking lips. Sherlock taking him in his long fingers, holding him at the base, sucking at his foreskin, adding teeth...

“Yes, please...” John breathed into the steamy air losing himself.

Sherlock taking him fully into his mouth, fucking him with those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hollowing out to suck him, going deeper, swallowing...

“Sherlock… fuck...”

He came, ribbons painting the blue tiles, wishing it were Sherlock’s hair in his hands. That it was Sherlock’s face latticed with his ejaculate, pearly against flushed cheeks and bruised perfect lips, instead of the shower wall.

The next morning, he began browsing online at work, as it was the only safe place, and began looking up self-pleasuring techniques outside of his normal routine. This crazy obsession had moved past a potential problem into a full blown crisis, and John needed a solution. A change in his routine seemed the most sensible; possibly something new, something that could come close to the thrill. Something that would feed the adrenaline laced need he had become accustomed to, yet for John was safe, but uncharted territory. He had seen everything in the realm of what he considered normal, and while they could appeal, seemed to him he’d prefer a partner to do them with. Then lightning struck as he found a medical kink site explaining urethral dilation, or ‘sounding’.

He happened upon the medical term he knew and loosely understood the principle. What people had begun doing with it was, well, simply put, it intrigued him. So, after a bit more research in both directions he realized the idea at the very least seemed arousing to him in some fashion. The idea of the penetrative play aspect more than stretching, especially after seeing someone do it in a non-medical setting. For a moment, as John watched, he realised he had palmed himself and was more than embarrassingly erect, caught up in the idea. That cemented it for him. 

Two weeks later, John received the parcel that contained the new set of instruments and some other necessities at the clinic. He found himself sort of excited and looked forward to sterilizing them, possibly even using them soon. The doctor wasn’t ever going to have anything of this nature sent via post where Sherlock could get his hands on it. This was personal; mostly to keep himself from going mad with want of said-flatmate. John placed the kit and the other supplies in his duffel, then set off for home. It would depend on Sherlock and their schedule, but he’d have them ready. The one thing John wanted for certain was to keep this private. Lord only knew what Sherlock would do if he found them; that was a line of thought John quickly snuffed out.

The opportunity arose not very long after. 

Sherlock had a case in Cardiff that his brother had told him was priority, and must be done alone due to security clearance. This was not the first time this had happened since John had lived at Baker Street, but this time Mrs. Hudson was off visiting her sister as well, so he was going to have the place to himself. John mulled it over, then decided it was time and there would be no interruptions to his explorations. He needed calm and space, and he had both. On the way home from the clinic, he stopped by the chemists and purchased cranberry pills and two single servings of cranberry juice for good measure. It was always better to err on the side of caution with this type of ‘play’. Being a doctor, he took it to heart. He smiled to himself as he entered the quiet building and headed straight for his room. 

John shut his door as he went to his wardrobe and pulled out the mostly empty travel bag. He popped two cranberry pills and two paracetamol and swallowing them dry. Placing the rumpled bags on the floor, John gathered what he needed. The slim leather case and medical grade lubrication specifically used for this type of procedure; nitrile gloves. He had already cleaned and then sterilised them, so they were ready for use. He felt a gambit of emotions as he placed everything neatly on one of the towels he had placed on the far side of his bed. 

He could not believe the sharp thrill that had possessed him, the knowledge that he was going to use something for not-quite its purpose, and on himself. John took a shuddering inhale. Soon. The doctor recognised the need to calm himself and took a few controlled breaths. Once in his bathroom, John stripped, then washed before he settled in and propped himself comfortably on his bed. Nitrile gloves on, he shivered as he took his semi-erect penis in his right hand and felt it thicken in anticipation. 

“Easy John...”

His voice steadied his resolve as he dipped the first sound into the lubrication, then regarded it before purposely taking a breath and placed it at the entrance of his urethra. He gently teased the opening as he tested to see if he had the correct gauge. It seemed to be slightly snug so he slipped it further toward the interior, a moan escaping his lips as the bud of the sound stretched him. As John’s body accommodated the intrusion he bit down on his lower lip to quiet himself, then John remembered he was alone. 

A gasp escaped this time as John slid the sound back out from the precious small amount it had been enveloped. The visual caused a twinge deep inside. He rolled it into the one-time use lubrication again, making sure he had plenty this time. John was more certain as he slowly pressed back inside himself before his light maneuvers dropped it further within, stroking the interior of his confused body, forcing a burn that was just fucking erotic. The excitement and exploration caused him to flush hot and mildly shake as his penis thickened, not yet hard because of the strange invasion. John worked himself this way until the first sound naturally delved within him through its own weight.

He added lube to his hand this time, grasped his girth, and began to work himself slowly, being mindful of the sound, allowing it to slip further in as he hardened. The bud felt larger as he tightened around it. John took a few breaths to steady himself as he enjoyed the pressure, the feel of his cock, enveloped by his hand and penetrated by the sound. Finally, he relaxed back, just to let go; to experience.

John pumped himself languorously, as he closed his eyes and moaned, desperate for further stimulation. As he sped up to his normal rhythm, he tried to keep his grip lighter to not injure himself. It still was not enough for him. He knew what he wanted, who he wanted, and knew this was a poor substitute, but damn did this feel pleasurable and he was determined to bring himself off. 

Just then, he heard the gasp. 

Sherlock stood in the doorway, the door itself only partially open, the detective’s hand still on the knob. He looked amazed and curious… and god-almighty did he look as if he wanted. His beautiful eyes were trained on John’s face as he continued to work himself, the sound still in place. John felt the immediate stiffening as he met Sherlock’s watchful eyes, and held them as he stroked in earnest knowing his climax was not far off. As it came closer, he lolled his head back onto the headboard and moaned Sherlock’s name.

That was all it took; in the next moment Sherlock surrounded him. One hand took over for John’s, twining their fingers on his cock as a lubricated finger found its way inside him as well. Before long, a second joined it as John undid Sherlock’s trousers with his left hand desperate to get at Sherlock. They kept their eyes on one another until John broke away as he hissed, his body taut for release, gasping again as the fingers inside him twisted. He almost began to beg for mercy, but words no longer existed in his mind John’s whole body shuddered as Sherlock moved himself onto the bed between John’s opened legs.

He kissed John lightly then, with all the heat and promise beginnings had. Sherlock positioned himself and pushed into him, and John, desperate to be touched, allowed it. His chest hitched as he lost the ability to breathe, being invaded as he was. He was filled, slightly uncomfortable from the sound, and damned sensitive; but Christ, when Sherlock moved suddenly to furrow himself within John, he couldn’t give a fuck. He needed this, had needed for so very long. John tried to cant his hips and roll to help Sherlock bury deeper. He wanted to feel him to his navel, until there was nothing but Sherlock’s semen locked deep within him.

“Sherlock...” John grunted, then panted around the pressure in his cock, not sure if he would ejaculate with the sound still present. 

“Not yet.” Sherlock groaned with exertion and moved his hand to the top of the sound that was well seated in John’s cock before giving it a good slow turn, one millimeter at a time, while he slowed down his own thrusts to madden them both further. John could feel the cock’s girth spread him wider until Sherlock had completely buried himself within. Then, he began to gently twisting the sound in time with his thrusts. The hard, even strokes, combined with the sound's ministrations, broke John into a million glittering pieces.

His orgasm had already been delayed by the shock of being discovered, then the surprise of Sherlock and the hunger there in his eyes. John did not think he could go any longer and tried to convey this, but only wound up sounding wanton, his moans breathy as his body drove headlong into overdrive. Sherlock had pressed an even harder angle and had coaxed the sound back out and let it fall to the wrecked duvet. John begged him to continue as Sherlock pummeled into him. He no longer cared as his body was on _fire_. Taken. Used. John felt the build-up once again and looked to Sherlock as he grabbed at the dark hair to bring them face-to-face.

“You’re magnificent.” Sherlock kissed him with fervor as he reached with a delicate hand and trapped John’s slicked cock between them. “Please, let go John.”

From the tightened feel of the thin steel to the void it left, the removal of the sound forced his orgasm almost immediately after the words had been whispered to him. John continued to kiss the curly haired madman as he let everything fall away. As Sherlock’s climax bloomed inside, he spiked again, crying long and hard, bowing up against Sherlock who had sat them up to ride out John’s first. 

“Christ, I’ve died!”

Sherlock softly laughed at John’s post-coital response and continued to nuzzle and kiss at his neck and shoulder as he lay them back down. John was boneless and languid, and so very thankful he had been caught out by his friend. Well, companion. Sherlock tucked John into him and held him close. It was marvelous.

“Not so bad as first times go.” Sherlock’s voice rumbled deeply in his ear. “You alright?”

“I don’t think I have been more alright, than I am right now.” John looked at the man wistfully. “But I do need the juice, please,” He could feel his cheeks flush. “And to use the loo.”

Sherlock reached over for the juice, raising an eyebrow, but not saying anything as John dutifully chugged it down before slowly moving over Sherlock to get to his bathroom. He quickly used the facilities and then ran the shower scrubbing down with the surgical grade antibacterial soap that had been in his kit. Feeling clean and spent, he dried quickly and crossed back to the bed and curled up once again with Sherlock.

“So, no condom then?” John breathed the question trying to tread lightly along the new path they were creating. “My fault too... too eager. I’m clean, I know. But-”

“Once a year, John. I am not currently sexually active, have not been in some time. I always made sure any equipment was sterile when I was using, but I feel better about getting tested than being ignorant. I have not been in any sort of dangerous lifestyle for sometime, other than the one we currently lead.” Sherlock took a breath and blew it out unsteadily as his arms wrapped John closer to his warmth. “I am sorry that I did not procure a condom out of your drawer... I will remember next time?” 

“Next time?” John had to giggle. “I think that ship has sailed, unless you prefer... then that is fine, too. Um, You alright with this... us? I mean it is quite-”

“Yes, quite the change, John, but I am happy for it if you are. Is there anything that you need? Are you comfortable?” The long fingers pressed against John’s back rubbing in wide arcs in a soothing manner. “Paracetamol? We were rather _enthusiastic_.”

“Hmm.” John dozily replied as he drifted in a hazy warmth. “Took earlier with cranberry pills. Before. This is nice isn’t it?”

Sherlock chuckled at the compact man in his arms and marveled over him for a moment, his fingers now splayed as he continued to caress John. “So, are we, well a ‘we’ then? Is this something you want?”

“Oh god, yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Merindab, Letalkingmime, Beltainefaerie, and everyone else that had their lovely eyes and hands on this fic. Thank you so very much.
> 
> SHJW*WritingCircle


End file.
